Okaaay. Somebody call the cops. This pack of five-year-olds is clearly up to no good
Did he grow up in a barn?
Was he raised by wolves?
Are they looking for him?
Do they want him back?
You can’t even regale others with the tales of his shenanigans because they don’t sound believable, not even to you. And you were there when they happened.
I’m talking about my five-year-old. He’s only in kindergarten, but if I’m not mistaken, he’s already been initiated into the local kindergarten gang of mini anarchists.
Every time he tells a story about something that happened in cheder, it always involves him and his crew: Moishy, Aryeh, and Yossi (names changed to protect the guilty).
One day he came home and told me that he and his friends had decided to bake a kokosh cake in cheder the next day.
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